GORDO
My head hurt so bad that I could feel it pounding. That was just about the only thing that hurt until I tried to move. That unleashed a series of pains… legs, arms, stomach, feet, neck, and just about everything. I groaned.
"Oh, you're awake."
My eyes opened and I saw a redhead nurse looking down at me. "Don't talk," she said. "You need more rest. Your parents are here."
I ignored her command not to talk. What happened to Lizzie and Miranda? I remembered what happened vaguely… I was in a car crash. I remembered getting tossed around in the back seat.
"Where's… Lizzie and Miranda?"
Her face showed her disappointment. "I told you not to talk. If those are the girls in the car with you, then they're in another room sharing. They're alive, but both are in serious condition."
"Why?" I choked out.
"The blond was hit in the head with something that flew up from behind the back seat. I think it was a hardcover book. And the other one hit her head hard on the side window, but it got stopped suddenly by the upper panel. Her brain was damaged."
I ignored my pain and tried to sit up. "I have to see them," I said.
"Stop struggling," she said. She put her hands on my arms to keep me from getting up. "You'll never be able to get up. If you do, you'll never be able to walk. If you can, you'll never find their room."
I sighed and gave up. It was too hard, anyway. Too hard to move, much less overcome the pressure she was putting on me. Once I stopped moving she took her hands off.
I suddenly realized I was hot. I pulled my arms out from the blanket and saw the bloody patches all over my left one.
"What…"
"Your arm flew into the window," she explained. "If you were wearing a seatbelt, you wouldn't have flown that far."
I blinked. I always wear a seatbelt. Don't I?
Then I remembered thinking that this once I didn't have to wear one. I was wrong. Just this once, I should have.
"How am I doing?"
"Just fine. You're going to have to stay here for about a month or so, but you'll be fine afterwards. You'll be able to walk and do sports and such once you recover fully."
I breathed deeply. If Lizzie and Miranda died, I would feel so guilty that I lived without any sacrifice. It seemed wrong, somehow. That my friends died, and I came out without a scratch.
"How bad are they?"
"I told you already. Serious."
"How serious?" I shot back.
She sighed. "You're talking too much. You need to rest more."
"How serious?" I repeated.
The nurse hesitated. "The blond has a 40% chance of living. The other one has 55%. Are you happy?"
No, I wasn't. I actually wanted to cry. Lizzie was probably going to die. Miranda might. And me? I was fine. In a month I'd be running and skipping and having a great time. Without them.
"Where are my parents?" I asked.
"Shh," she said. "I told you, don't talk. Go back to sleep."
"Where are they?"
"You are a stubborn one, aren't you? They're in the waiting room. You can't see them now if that's what you're thinking. There's no way the doctor's going to let them in this early."
"What time is it?"
"It's…" She checked her watch. "7:30. The crash was at 5:15. Now go to sleep, Daniel."
"David," I corrected.
"Go to sleep."
I gave in. Sleep sounded so good right then. It would be an escape from all of my aching bones and pounding head. And when I woke up, I might feel better. Hopefully.
~*~
When I woke up again it was dark outside. I could tell by looking out the window. What time was it now?
I lay awake for a little bit, unable to go back to sleep. My head still hurt, but a little less now. I realized that I couldn't feel my arms.
"Urgh," I mumbled. I started to panic. What happened? Did they amputate my arms?!?!
I heard the door open and someone came in. She walked over to me and started to prepare something that I guessed was a shot.
"What… where are my arms?" I tried to ask. But my speech was slurred so it sounded more like "Wha… war I mlars?"
The nurse was startled. She jumped. "Daniel! You're supposed to be asleep!"
"David," I corrected.
"Your arms are attached to your shoulders. I gave you quite a bit of novocaine for the shots I'm going to give you."
"I hate shots," I said, my voice still slurred.
"That's why we're using the novocaine," she answered.
"Why do I sound like I'm drunk?" I asked.
She smiled. "Novocaine isn't the only drug we gave you. Now I'm going to give you the shot, but I promise you won't even feel it."
I didn't trust her. When I was 4 and went into the doctor for shots he said "I'm going to give it to you on three. One-" then he did it. Ever since, I never trusted doctors.
I braced myself for immense pain, but didn't get it. About a minute later I asked "When are you going to give me the shots?"
"I just did," she replied. "See? I told you you wouldn't feel it."
I blinked. How could I not feel that? It was a needle in my arm! Oh, well.
"Now go back to sleep. It's 1:30 in the morning."
"My parents still here?"
"They're asleep in the waiting room. Goodnight." She left.
I felt like yawning but I was too afraid it would trigger too much pain, so I held back. And fell asleep.
